The Neighbor Trap (Renegades Ice Hockey Romance #3)

Chapter 1

Natalie

“Okay, that's the last of it.” My cousin Avery dusts off her hands and grins at me. “You're officially a New Yorker.”

“I'm officially terrified.” Not true. I’m excited.

This is the fresh start I've been dreaming about for months.

New city. New job. New life. No Brody. No mother asking when I'm going to come to my senses.

Just me and a chance to figure out who I am when I'm not trying to be what everyone else wants.

Liam, Avery’s boyfriend and a forward for the New York Renegades, appears in the kitchen doorway, his broad shoulders taking up most of the frame.

He raises the trophy up in the air. “The Stanley Cup, baby!” He sets it down on my kitchen island. “I'm not letting her out of my sight.”

The Renegades won the Stanley Cup last season, and every player on the winning team gets twenty-four hours with the Cup. Today is Liam's day. The trophy travels with a handler from the Hall of Fame, but for these precious hours, it belongs to him.

I run my fingers along the edge of the trophy, tracing the engraved names of past champions. Decades of hockey history, right here in my new apartment. “This is incredible. I can't believe it's just sitting on my kitchen island.”

“Believe it.” Liam pats the Cup affectionately. “She's real, she's here, and she's coming everywhere with me today.”

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Avery says, her eyes soft as she looks at Liam. Seeing them together and obviously in love sends a pang of longing through my chest.

I shudder. The last thing I want in my life is romance. After Brody, I’m done with men. I'm here to rebuild my life.

“Thank you for everything, guys,” I say, pulling Avery into a hug. “I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this.”

She hugs me back. “You don't have to repay me. You needed a change, and the New York Renegades needed a physical therapist. Plus, you’re the best PT I know. They're lucky to have you.”

Liam drapes an arm around Avery's shoulders. “You ready to work with hockey players? We're not exactly easy.”

I laugh. I've seen the tabloids. The club appearances, the models on their arms, and the videos of champagne showers in VIP sections after big wins. Hockey players have a reputation, and from what I've gathered, the Renegades are no exception.

But I'm not here to babysit anyone's social life.

I'm here to do one thing. Get Ethan Ward back on the ice. While his teammates were hoisting the trophy, he was in the medical room with the team doctors, writhing in pain.

A bad hit in the third period had torn his ACL clean through. One moment, he was blocking a shot; the next, he was crumpled on the ice, his season and possibly his career ending in a single, brutal twist of his knee.

He had surgery two days after the parade, meaning he missed all the celebrations that came with winning the Stanley Cup.

And by all accounts, the forced stillness has turned him into a nightmare to work with. The last two physical therapists assigned to him didn't last a month. One quit, and the other requested a transfer.

“I've worked with difficult patients before,” I say. “I can handle it.”

“Yeah, but Ethan?” Liam shakes his head. “Good luck with that one.”

I've read Ethan’s file cover to cover, studied his injury reports, and signed a contract specifically to oversee his rehabilitation. My entire job here revolves around getting him back on the ice, and that is something I’m confident I can do.

As long as he cooperates.

“What's he like?” I ask.

“The guy's moody as fuck,” Liam says. “More so now that he's injured. He's been biting everyone's heads off since the surgery.”

“Liam.” Avery elbows him in the ribs. “Don't scare her off before she even starts.”

“I'm not scared.” I straighten my spine. “I spent three years working in a hospital. I've dealt with patients who were angry, depressed, in denial, and everything in between. An injured hockey player isn't going to break me.”

Liam raises his eyebrows. “All right, all right. I like the confidence.”

“She's going to be fine,” Avery says firmly. Then she grins at me, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Although I should warn you, athletes are another breed. The egos alone could fill this entire building.”

“Hey!” Liam protests with a pout.

“Present company included.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, taking the sting out of the words.

“When do you meet him?” Avery asks me.

“Tomorrow, at the arena.” Nerves flutter in my stomach, but I ignore them. I've got this. I have to have this. There's no backup plan or safety net. I left everything behind in Charlotte, and this job is my lifeline.

“Well, tonight we celebrate.” Liam picks up the Stanley Cup again, hoisting it over his head. “Lunch is on me. And Lord Stanley here is coming with us.”

I laugh. “You're really going to carry that thing into a restaurant?”

“Hell yeah, I am. You only get twenty-four hours, and I'm making every minute count.” He pauses, then adds, “Plus, we're picking up my brothers from the airport later. They're flying in to see the Cup. It's going to be epic.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had brothers,” I say.

But then again, I don't know much about Liam Novak beyond the tabloids and what Avery has told me. Hockey was never on my radar until my cousin took a job as the Renegades' team publicist.

I started paying attention then, and what I found made me nervous. The partying. The revolving door of women. I worried that Avery was going to get her heart shattered by some overpaid athlete who saw her as just another puck bunny.

But Liam has surprised me. He's solid. Maybe I was wrong to paint them all with the same brush.

He smiles. “They’re fifteen and twelve. They’ve never seen the Cup up close, and I promised they could touch it.” His whole face lights up when he talks about them. It's sweet. For all his wild reputation on and off the ice, Liam Novak is a softie when it comes to family.

Liam insists on driving even though the restaurant is only a few blocks away. “Can't have the cup walking,” he says.

We pile into his Challenger, and the engine rumbles to life with a deep growl that turns heads on the sidewalk.

“He loves this car more than me,” Avery says from the front passenger seat.

“That's not true.” Liam reaches over and squeezes her knee. “You're tied.”

She swats his hand, and we all laugh. I’m going to love it here.

I sit in the back with the Stanley Cup buckled in beside me like a very expensive, very shiny passenger. The leather seats are cool against my bare legs, and the air conditioning blasts away the July heat.

I try to memorize the route from my new building to the restaurant. New York is overwhelming in the best way. The noise, the energy, and the sheer number of people. It's nothing like Charlotte, While it’s a big city, it has nothing on New York. Here, I'm completely anonymous and invisible.

The restaurant Liam chooses is upscale but not stuffy, and the staff smile when he walks in carrying the most famous trophy in hockey.

We don't make it three steps before someone approaches. A man in a tailored suit abandons his lunch companions to shake Liam's hand. A group of businessmen raise their glasses in his direction, calling out congratulations.

Liam handles it all with easy charm, posing for photos, signing a napkin, chatting like he has all the time in the world.

Avery touches my elbow. “Come on. This might take a while.”

We follow the hostess to a curved booth near the back with a view of the entire restaurant. Avery slides in gracefully, then turns her attention to me.

“How are you holding up?”

I know she's not asking about the move.

“I'm okay,” I say. “Better now that I'm here.”

“Does Brody know where you are?”

“No.” I run my finger along the edge of the table. “And I told my mother that if she gives him my address, I'll never speak to her again.”

Avery reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Good. You deserve so much better than him, Nat. You know that, right? What he did was unforgivable.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back, frustrated with myself.

“It's not that I miss him.” I take a breath.

“It’s more so that my whole life plan is gone.

The wedding, the house we were going to buy, the future I thought I had.

All of it, just gone. And I'm so angry. I'm angry that I wasted years on someone who could do that to me.”

“I know.” Avery reaches for my hand. “But it's for the best. He wasn't meant to be yours. And one day, you're going to find your person. Someone who actually deserves you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I'm not interested in finding my person or anyone for that matter. I just want to focus on my career. That's all I want right now.” I don’t want to talk about Brody or give him any more of my mental space.

I turn my gaze to Liam across the room, still surrounded by fans. The Cup gleams under the pendant lights as another group gathers around for photos.

“How do you do it?” I ask.

Avery follows my gaze. “Do what?”

“This. The attention. People watching your every move, taking pictures.” I shake my head. “The complete lack of privacy.”

She's quiet for a moment, watching Liam crouch down to show the Cup to a little boy in a Renegades jersey. The kid's face lights up like Christmas morning.

“I love him,” she says simply. “And this is part of his life. You can't have one without the other.”

Finally, Liam manages to extricate himself and joins us at the table. “Miss me?” Liam slides into the booth beside Avery, the Cup cradled against his chest. “Sorry about that.”

The atmosphere lightens after that, and I forget the wreckage that was my life before I left Charlotte.

We order too much food and drink a flute of champagne each. Liam tells stories about the playoff run while Avery watches him with stars in her eyes.

After lunch, Liam checks his phone. “The boys are about to land. We need to head to the airport.”

Avery turns to me. “You want to come with us?”

As much as I want to go, there’s a stack of files in my bag that I haven't looked at yet, and I know I'll sleep better tonight if I'm prepared for tomorrow.

“I think I'm going to head back,” I say. “I need to go through my notes and unpack a few more boxes. Rain check?”

“Sure.” Avery hugs me again. “Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything.”

“I will.”

Liam gives me a salute with the Stanley Cup. “Good luck tomorrow. Don't let Ethan scare you.”

“I won't,” I promise.

They want to drop me off, but I insist on walking. The afternoon sun is warm on my face, and I take the long way, stopping at a grocery store to pick up essentials.

The bags are heavy by the time I reach my building, and I have to juggle them awkwardly to reach for the door handle. I grab it and push, putting my shoulder into it because the door is heavier than I expected.

It swings open fast and hard, and I hear a thud followed by a string of profanity that would make a sailor blush.

“What the fuck?”

Oh no.

I scramble through the doorway and find myself face-to-face with a man on crutches. Correction. A very large, very angry man on crutches who is glaring at me like I just committed a felony.

“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “Are you okay? I didn't see you there. The door was heavy, and I just pushed, and I didn't think anyone would be right behind it and...”

I trail off as I get a good look at him.

He has dark, messy hair, like he can't be bothered to comb it. A square jaw, almost brutal in its sharpness, shadowed with stubble. Blue-grey eyes that are currently narrowed with irritation. He looks a lot bigger than the last time I saw him, which was in a stretcher.

Ethan Ward is tall. Even hunched over his crutches, he towers over me. I take in his broad shoulders and thick arms. No wonder his nickname is The Wall.

“You almost knocked me over,” he growls. “Do you always walk with your eyes closed?”